


You're Not My Mom

by SandstoneSunspear



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Gen, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-22
Updated: 2017-09-22
Packaged: 2019-01-04 02:01:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12159324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SandstoneSunspear/pseuds/SandstoneSunspear
Summary: "You're not my real mom! You just happen to be dating her!"-Whether Dylan meant to or not, he had brought a sincere fear of Alex's to the surface. Now, she sat in a dingy bar wanting nothing more than to drink herself into oblivion.





	You're Not My Mom

**Author's Note:**

  * For [NerdsbianHokie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdsbianHokie/gifts).



> Me and @nerdsbianhokie have been messaging back and forth about this for a while, so I decided to bite the bullet and write the damn thing so I could focus on my term paper. Dylan Olsen-Lane is their idea, I'm just borrowing him.

Alex sat at the bar. Her finger absently drummed across the wooden top. She hadn't had a drink in years, not since Dylan’s kidnapping. Not since Maggie and Lucy had brought her drinking habits to light and made her get help. Now, the urge to knock back a scotch or seven burned viciously in her throat. Only M’gann’s watchful gaze kept her from snatching a beer from the guy next to and had her glaring a hole into the bar.

-

_ “You're not my real mom! You just happen to be dating her!” _

_ - _

Dylan’s furious words echoed around in Alex’s head. It was the only thing she could think about. As unaffected as she tried to appear over them, they hurt more than she cared to admit. Whether he knew it or not, Dylan had vocalised a sincere fear she had been carrying since he was born: that he would never consider her family.

_ I want a drink _ . A wave of self-loathing swept over Alex at the thought. She had gone nearly a decade without a drop of alcohol. She had endured a great deal in that time: adopting Maggie’s teenage sister, a routine call that had been anything but and nearly claimed Maggie’s life, a breach at the Desert Base and losing communication with Lucy for several agonising hours, raising a surly preteen, and more. None of that had ever driven her to drink since her recovery. And yet, here she was: in a dingy alien bar.

“Hey, my bar’s not dingy, Danvers,” M’gann protested.

Alex just grunted. Okay, so maybe that was a bit harsh.

“You think?”

She rolled her eyes, but said nothing else. Instead, she chose to glare at the bar with an intensity that she typically reserved for the worst criminals and Maxwell Lord.

A glass of… something plonked itself in front of her. She looked up. 

“I know I thought I wanted a drink, M’gann, but trust me, it’s a bad idea.” Alex knew that if she knocked one back, it would quickly be followed by seven more. And then those seven would be followed by a bottle of Jack and a healthy helping of vodka. Her liver wept at the thought.

“I’m not stupid enough to give you alcohol right now, Danvers.” M’gann’s tone was harsh and biting, but the under it, her concern was evident. Alex wanted to hate her for it. “It’s just Kordovian ale.”

Calling it an ale was generous. For anyone without a Kordovian physiology, it was nothing more than a flavoured water. The sweet taste meant it was quite the popular choice of drink for many who wanted to be social without getting drunk. And it was one of the few things that M’gann served to patrons with a history of alcohol issues.

Alex grudgingly took the drink. She eyed the glass distrustfully. She’d had it before and actually enjoyed it. This time though, she wasn’t quite sure about it. She moved the glass to her lips, ready to throw it back like a shot of whiskey, but decided at the last minute to sip it instead. Honey and sugar-laced flowers surrounded her taste buds. 

_ It doesn’t hurt enough.  _ At least whiskey burned when it went down. Pain made for a good distraction. It’d been half the reason she had been a scotch and whiskey woman during grad school. It was easier to focus on the trail of fire it left behind in her throat than the ills she was facing.

Out of the corner of her eye, Alex saw someone approach. She paid them no mind. She signalled M’gann for more. Even if she couldn’t get drunk off the stuff, she could at least try and use the sweet, cloying taste to distract herself.

“Alex?”

_ Fuck.  _ M’gann placed another glass in front of Alex, which she promptly threw back. Alex imagined it was the cheap liqueur that she had once had hidden in her lab. It was so cheap, it most likely could have stripped the paint from metal, but the burn it left behind was incredible.

Alex set the glass down. She glanced at Maggie, who eyed her with considerable trepidation. She huffed.

“Don’t worry, it’s non-alcoholic.” A sardonic smile. “M’gann here knows better than to give me alcohol. Can’t trust a drunk with their drinks, after all.”

Maggie flinched at just how harsh Alex’s tone was. It had been years since Alex had spoken like this. It wasn’t something she enjoyed hearing. 

“You’re not a drunk.” 

“Not yet, I’m not.” If Alex was being honest with herself, as much as she wanted to drink herself into oblivion, her pride and her love for Maggie and Lucy would ultimately still her hand. 

Maggie moved to sit on the empty barstool next to Alex. M’gann went to the other side of the bar, intent on giving the two privacy.

“Kara told me what happened.”

“Of course she did.”

“Alex, you know he didn’t mean it.”

“But he wasn't wrong, Mags.” The bitter sadness in Alex’s voice broke Maggie’s heart. “I'm not his real mom, I'm just…”  _ Nothing. I'm just dating his real mother. _

Maggie reached and took her hand, drawing Alex’s gaze to her. “You're Dylan’s mother, same as Lucy, same as Kara, same as me,” she said firmly. “Just because the two of you had an argument today, doesn't mean that it invalidates all the years you've been his parent.”

Tears welled up in Alex’s eyes. She angrily wiped them away. 

“Ally, you remember what Dylan used to call you when he was smaller?”

“Opie,” Alex mumbled.

“And what did he call me?”

“Emem.” Saying it out loud sounded ridiculous now, but the titles Dylan had granted each of them never failed to bring small smiles to all of their faces. 

“Yeah.” Maggie tilted her head. “He's got names for all of us. We raised him. He's  _ our _ son.”

Alex bit her lip. 

Maggie sighed. “Lucy thinks we should tell Dylan about…Rick.”

Alex stiffened. It had been ten years since her kidnapping and near-drowning at his hands. It had been 36 hours of anguish for everyone involved. And it had been the worst 36 hours of Alex’s life because Dylan had been with her. Every time he fell silent, she part of her believed him dead until he started crying again. 

“No, absolutely not,” she said shortly.

“Alex, he has right to know,” Maggie protested. “Maybe it’ll help.”

“Or it could make things worse! He doesn’t need to know!” He didn’t need to know that Alex had almost died. That she had been trapped in a glass box, fighting tooth and nail to escape, unable to get to him. It had been her greatest failure. 

Maggie picked up on Alex’s doubts. “You didn’t fail, Alex.” How many nights had she and Lucy held Alex, refusing to let her blame herself? “You’re alive. Our son is alive. The last ten years are proof enough that you didn’t fail.”

_ I didn’t get to him.  _

Maggie tried another angle. “He thinks you hate him,” she said.

Alex’s brow furrowed. “What? No!” She could never hate him.

“Alex, you shut down in front of him and walked away. He’s been trying to text you since you left, we all have, but you haven’t responded.”

For the first time in hours, Alex checked her phone. A sad, empty battery bar flashed up at her. Oops. 

“My phone died,” she said, showing it to Maggie.

Maggie squeezed her hand. “Then let’s go home, so you can talk to our son.” Alex looked ready to protest, but Maggie held her hand up. “You don’t have to tell him, Alex, but you two do need to talk.” A beat. “You know you won’t be able to keep what happened to the two of you a secret forever, right?”

Alex got up. She tossed a couple of bills on the bar. “If it means protecting him, I can damn well try.”

-

“Opie!” Dylan’s panicked voice was the first thing Alex heard when she walked through the door. A second later, 127 pounds of pre-teen boy slammed into her. She grunted. Before she could recover, Dylan’s babble hit her full speed. 

“I didn’t mean it! You’re my mom, you and Maggie and Kara, you’re all my moms!” he rushed out. Alex didn’t even get the chance to respond. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!”

Alex pulled him close. The twelve year old burrowed his face into her shoulder. His body shook with muffled sobs. She ran her hand against his hair.

“I know, ‘Lan,” she assured. “I know.” Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Lucy and the others leave the room to give the two of them some privacy. 

Dylan pulled away. His eyes were red. He had obviously been crying for hours. 

“I think you and I need to talk, young man.” There was no anger in her words, only a statement of fact.

His shoulders slumped. He would’ve preferred her words be angry. At least that way he could tell what she was feeling.

Both sat on the couch. Alex took a breath. “Before we talk any further, I need you to listen to me, alright?” Dylan nodded. “I might not’ve given birth to you, but you’re my son in every way that counts. You hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am.” His confirmation was punctuated by another nod. “I really didn’t mean to say what I did, I just...I just got angry.”

The guilt in his eyes made Alex sigh. Truth be told, Dylan was an amalgamation of all of his parents. He was idealistic like Kara, determined like James, stubborn as hell like Lucy, protective like Maggie, and as impulsive as Alex was. Off all the traits that gave his parents headaches, it was his impulsiveness. It was partially due to his age, but also due to being raised by the Danvers-Olsen-Sawyer-Lane household. He’d seen first hand just how quickly Alex reacted to threats and the half-thought out plans that tended to follow.

“It happens,” Alex conceded. “But we’ve talked about you and your anger before.” Specifically, James and Maggie had. The two knew firsthand that the anger of a person of colour was viewed differently than the anger of a white person. A white individual could get angry and be lauded for expressing it. But if a person of colour got angry, it could end with them in cuffs at best, shot at worst. 

Dylan hung his head. 

“Hey,” Alex placed a hand on his shoulder. “I’m not scolding you right now. I’m just reminding you. I want you to be careful because I want you to stay safe.”

At first, Alex hadn’t understood why James and Maggie had warned Dylan to be polite to, but wary of the police. Maggie was a cop, and she and Lucy were federal agents (sort of). Law enforcement ran in his blood, so why should he afraid? Then she saw Maggie’s partner rough up two black teenagers just for wearing hoodies at the wrong place and time. It made her angry and then it clicked, making her painfully aware of her white privilege. It had been years since Rick, but the incident struck a chord of fear in her that she hadn’t felt in some time. From then on, she echoed the message that James and Maggie delivered whenever Dylan left the house.

“Do you think you can tell me what made you so upset earlier?”

Dylan bit his lip. Alex fought back a smile. It was such a Kara move.

“We’re supposed to do a family tree project at school.” Alex was aware. She had seen the paper on the dinner table. “I drew a picture of our family, of us, and I kinda followed Jimmy Parker, you know, the kid with three mom’s because both of his parents got divorced and remarried?”

Alex winced but nodded. Maggie had been called in for a nasty domestic dispute a year back involving the Parker family during the divorce.

“So I drew everyone out and connected everyone like I was supposed to, but Mrs. Harrington got mad at me!” A frown marred his face. “She said that I could only include Mom and Jeju because they were my real moms, but not you or Emem because neither one of you were my real moms!”

Alex’s frown matched his. She, personally, had never been fond of Nina Harrington. The woman always seemed to look upon her and Maggie with disdain whenever one of them went to pick up Dylan. Alex had just chalked it up to her being a woman who held ideals more suited for the 1950s, but now she couldn’t help but wonder if there was more to it.

“I tried to explain it to her, you know, and pointed out that Jimmy Parker had three mom’s but she just ignored me! She told me to do it over again, without you or Emem in it, or she’d give me a zero!”

Now, Alex was seething. She was going to have a word with Nina Harrington as soon as possible. Her hand flexed unconsciously. 

Dylan huffed. “I made me upset because Jimmy’s three moms count as his real moms to Mrs. Harrington, but you and Emem don’t. And then I came home and I wanted to go to Anna’s house but…”

“I said no.”

“Yeah.” Dylan worried his lip. “And it was just, she said you weren’t my real mom. And it stuck, so when you said no…”

“You snapped what was on your mind,” Alex finished.

He looked down guiltily. “Yeah…”

She let out a breath. She counted down from twenty in German, switching half way down to Kryptonese.

“First of all, me, Jeju, Mom, Emem, and Dad are going to have a word with Mrs. Harrington,” she started. “She shouldn’t have said any of that to you.”

“But why did she?”

Alex winced.  _ Looks like we’ll be having  _ that _ conversation.  _

“Because…” How best to phrase it? “Because we’re not a typical family, Dylan. Before you were born, your Dad and Mom were together for a little bit before they decided they would be better off as friends. Then Jeju and your Dad started dating with your Mom’s permission--”

“Why did Dad and Jeju need Mom’s permission to date?” 

“Because they wanted to make sure that she was okay with the two of them being together and because they didn’t want to hurt her feelings.”

“Oh.”

“So they started dating. And then Emem and I entered the picture while your Mom was pregnant with you. But the three of us didn’t start dating until after you were born.”

“So...Mrs. Harrington doesn’t said you weren’t my real mom because you and Emem are with Mom, while Dad and Jeju are together with each other?”

“Sort of?” It came out more as a question than Alex wanted it to. “Honestly, at this point, I think she’s just a raging homophobe.”

“A homophone?” Dylan had never been more confused in his life. What did being a word with two different meanings but similar pronunciations have to do with someone being mean?

“No, a homophobe,” Alex corrected. “Despite the latin roots present in the word, it means that she doesn’t like gay people.”

“But why?”

Alex shrugged. “I wish I had an answer for you, buddy.”

An easy silence fell between them. Dylan shifted nervously. 

“Mom told me about the bad guy, Rick, she said his name was?” he spoke up. 

Alex tensed. This wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have right now. Both of them were still raw, despite what the levity in the earlier discussion might have implied. 

“Did you really cut the tracker out of your arm using a credit card?” Dylan’s question threw her for a loop. Of all the things she’d been expecting him to ask, that certainly hadn’t been one of them.

“I did.”  _ After I spent the better part of 20 minutes trying to put my fist through the glass. _

“Mom said that he took me.”

“He did.”  _ And he kept you just out of reach.  _ Rick had kept Dylan’s car seat in the darkness so that Alex could only hear him, not see him. He wailed his fear for what felt like hours, despite her best efforts to keep him calm. And then he fell silent. Alex had never felt more fear than when Dylan’s cries stopped. Only when he started up again did she feel like she could breathe. The cycle went on forever. The logical part of Alex knew that all he was doing was crying himself to sleep, but the parent in her had been terrified that he was dying every time he stopped wailing. 

“You got him, though right? ‘Cause mom said you punched him pretty good!”

Alex laughed. “I did. Broke his nose.”  _ Wanted to break more than that, to be honest.  _

Dylan looked down and kicked at the carpet. “Why didn’t you tell me before?” 

Alex exhaled and ran her fingers through her hair. “Because at first, you were too young to understand,” she admitted. “And then, as you got older, I thought it would be better if we didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to scare you.”

She reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You have to understand, I’ve done a lot of things for my job, not all of them good, all in the name of protecting the people I love.”

“Like Jeju.”

“Like Jeju,” Alex nodded. “So the first time I held you in my arms, I was terrified. You were so small, so fragile. But in that moment, I made a promise to your Mom that I would do anything to keep you safe. After the Rick incident, I promised myself that I would never do anything to put you in a situation like that ever again.”

“But it wasn’t your fault.” From the way Lucy had made it sound, that Rick guy had taken Alex by surprise.

Alex smiled sadly. “You’re right.” It had taken years of therapy and a 12 Step program to get her to see that. “But that doesn’t mean that I didn’t blame myself Dylan. I wanted to do nothing but protect you, to keep you safe, to make it so that you wouldn’t be afraid. I figured that if I did tell you what happened, you’d be frightened.”

“But you beat the bad guy.” How could he be afraid when Alex beat the bad guy? She always beat away the monsters, be they on the streets or under the bed or in the closet.

“There are other bad guys out there, Dylan, some that are much worse than Rick.”  _ Like my father.  _ Ten years later and Jeremiah Danvers was still a sore spot for her. 

To Alex’s surprise, Dylan gave her a tight hug. 

“You don’t have to be afraid, Opie,” he said seriously. “Because I’m okay. And I’m not afraid, because my moms, my real moms, can beat any guy who tries to mess with our family.”

Tears welled up in Alex’s eyes. She buried her face into his shoulder and chuckled wetly. 

“I love you, Opie.”

“I love you too, Dylan.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed reading this. Please leave a kudos and/or a comment. Feel free to check other pieces that I've posted here, or come check me out @sandstonesunspear.tumblr.com to chat or leave me prompts. Have a great day!


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